Hogwarts Anew: First Year
by MorningHell
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy is not at all enthused about his first year at Hogwarts. Less than warmly welcomed, it seems that Hogwarts isn't entirely pleased with it either. Will he have the chance to prove he's his own Malfoy, or will wizardry beat him to a pulp?
1. Chapter 1

**Hogwarts Anew: First Year**

_What an uninspired title. I'm not entirely sure where this is going. I started it on an impulse, so it may go kind of far, not very far, or super far. I know myself well enough by now not to make any promises whatsoever, so if you're not willing to get into a story that may never be finished, you should probably be on your way. _

_NOTE: I have never read any of the Harry Potter books. I've seen all the movies though. So if you find inconsistencies or something that strikes you as just plain impossible, that is probably the reason. Most of my information comes from rabid, crazed, book-reading friends and--though it shames me to admit this--Wikipedia. Also, OBVIOUS DEATHLY HALLOWS SPOILERS. OBVIOUSLY._

_Disclaimer: All I own is the writing, the plot, and about 30 of the overall appearing characters._

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"Stop slouching, Scorpius." 

Eleven-year-old Scorpius Malfoy quickly arched his shoulders back, trying to regain the stately posture he was ordered to be practicing as he stepped closer to his father. Once he was sure the elder was looking away, he relaxed his pose almost immediately, looking around the platform in wonder. All in all, he was bored. Granted, no child awaiting a journey to a whole school year at the most magical place there was should be bored, but Scorpius had never witnessed this place before and was in any case a rather skeptical child to begin with. He slowly lifted up the edge of the cloth that covered a cage resting on his suitcase, peering in at the cream and tawny barn owl that perched nestled within. It ruffled the feathers around its neck and hooted quietly at him, and he dropped the cloth with a sigh.

"Stand up straight, Scorpius." His father scolded again.

Scorpius made his back stiff and slowly looked up at his father's face with large silver-blue eyes. "I don't want to go, Dad." He admitted obstinately.

Draco Malfoy's stare slowly made it down to his son, his hands still tucked into his long black coat and his cool expression unwavering. "Well you'll just have to get over that, won't you?"

Scorpius pouted slightly, unwilling to accept this. "But I don't even know any other kids. I'm not going to have any friends at all."

"Nonsense. You'll have Twistfoot with you." Draco dismissed. The owl cooed at the mention of its name and the whooshing of feathers could be heard inside of the covered cage.

"I mean _real_ friends, Dad." Scorpius insisted. "And I'll look stupid if I carry an owl around everywhere I go."

"Nonsense!" chirped his mother, echoing his father's sentiment far more cheerily. The blonde woman bent down and fussed with her son's hair meticulously before deciding to undo all her work and ruffling it up altogether. "I don't see what's wrong with talking to an owl."

Scorpius frowned. "It can't talk back. And it's not like it can play Quidditch with me or take notes with me in class."

His mother held a finger to her chin and made a 'tut' in thought. "Well I suppose that's true. An owl definitely can't play Quidditch."

"See? I'm going to be alone."

"You won't be alone." She countered assuredly. "But if you ever find that you _are_ alone, you must always remember to never ever be alone in the bathroom—otherwise you might get attacked by the Wipplesnippers."

"What's that?" Scorpius asked hesitantly.

"Oh, they're harmless really. Unless you're alone, of course. They're especially cowardly things, but one person all by themselves isn't all that scary. They usually travel in groups of three, so if you see one, you'd best watch out for the others because they're surely right around the corner. If you're not careful, they'll sneak right in and eat all of your toilet paper up before you've got a chance to use any."

"Mom," Scorpius moaned irritably.

"The only way to avoid them is to sing at the top of your lungs whenever you enter the bathroom—that way with all the noise they just might think that there's more than one of you."

"Stop filling his head with that." Draco ordered crassly. "Hasn't he had enough of your Nargles and Wrackspurts and man-eating Crumply Horn Knickknacks?"

His wife stood, arms at her hips. "First of all, it's the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, and it is a very gentle creature that would _never_ eat anyone. Second of all, our son has a right to know about these things." She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, tickling his nose with a finger. "And third of all, you'd do well with some care when it comes to magical creatures yourself, my little husband."

Draco offered a helpless expression, eyebrows crooked. "Luna, come on then."

Scorpius shook his head and wrinkled his nose, tapping his owl cage absently to make sure his pet hadn't secretly vanished. Even as much as he hated his mother's insane tales, he didn't want to get on the approaching train. He wanted to go home, where he wasn't obligated to make friends or sleep in foreign magical places full of strangers. His eyes searched the platform and the other waiting students, who all seemed rather menacing to him. In the center of the commotion, at least from where he could see, a small mob of red-headed children caught his eye. None of them seemed particularly special to him, but then he was sure he had seen his father nod towards the group of them, and the tall man with dark hair and glasses had nodded back. His eyes fought past a girl with reddish brown hair who was buried in a book to see a little boy that was his age, hair dark and sporting glasses much like a miniature version of the man he was standing next to. The dark haired boy, he noticed, was staring at him unabashedly, a curious expression on his face. Scorpius blinked at him before conjuring up his best imitation of his father's infamous sneer and turning his back abruptly with crossed arms.

The loud whistles and howls of the train screamed from the end of the track, signaling the approaching vessel. The platform erupted in activity, children's voices laughing and crying, mothers scolding and lecturing, owls and cats and other animals making a ruckus as they were moved about. Scorpius frowned again and looked up at his father, who was pushing his suitcase towards him.

"Come along, Scorpius. Don't dawdle. Take your things."

Scorpius looked around one last time before taking it. "If I don't like it, do I have to come back next year?"

"Yes." Draco said sternly. "Until you're eighteen you may as well think of Hogwarts as your second home."

"I only have one home." Scorpius said defiantly. "And that's all I ever needed. You're just making me go because your dad made _you_ go and you want to get back at someone."

Draco and his son shared a short glaring contest before he shook his head. "I don't have time for this, and neither do you. Now you're getting on that train and you're going to school even if you spend the whole year doing nothing but studying and sitting alone in your room feeding your bloody owl."

Scorpius continued to glare, trying to fight back the tears behind his eyes. "I won't forgive you for this, father."

Draco raised a brow challengingly and took his son's shoulder to turn him towards the train. "That'll be the same threat you'll give me when I mean to pick you up. You're a Malfoy, boy, now act with a little pride why don't you?"

"Pride for what?" Scorpius grunted.

Draco, seeming stung, scowled and shoved the caged owl into his son's other hand. Without another word, he pointed to the train and gave Scorpius a good push forward.

"Goodbye, Scorpius. We love you." Luna chimed behind him.

"Bye Mom." He nodded over a shoulder. The train seemingly loomed over him, children practically fighting to get in through the doorway. He was unexcited to work his way in with them, fearing the multitude of scrapes and bruises that were sure to follow. Eventually he realized that he had no choice, and so he timidly began worming his way around them until he could pull himself up on the steps. Once he had, he realized that now his situation was not much better, as there were practically no empty compartments and he much preferred to sit by himself. Slowly he began to trudge down the corridor, holding his owl's cage carefully out in front of him. He felt as though every child stared at him as he went, and in truth many of them were. His family name held no secrets, after all. He pretended not to notice, and at last caught an empty compartment at the end.

An older dark-haired boy suddenly peered out at him, blocking his way and forcing him to momentarily stop. "Hey there." He snapped.

Scorpius recoiled, a suspicious look on his face as he stepped back. He looked into the boy's cart, where several others were giggling and watching them. He mustered up his father's haughty expression and stated primly, "You're in my way."

The boys behind the dark-haired one whispered and cackled at this, but the boy himself just smiled. "You're that Malfoy boy, aren't you?"

"I don't see how it's any business of yours." Scorpius said evasively.

"Well I'm James Potter. Our fathers know one another. But then again everyone knows _your_ father." He leaned further out the door and swayed back and forth, clearly not intending to let the blonde boy pass.

"So what if they do?" Scorpius shot back. "Everyone knows your father too."

"Yeah, only my father's a hero. Yours is a dirty death-eating criminal." James said matter-o-factly.

"He is not." Scorpius bit heatedly. He looked over again at the group of random boys who were laughing and staring him down as well.

"Whatcha got in there? A parakeet?" James asked as he thumped the cage before him harshly.

The owl screeched shortly at being so roughly disturbed, and Scorpius pulled the cage away with a growl. "Stop that!"

"Sorry." James laughed. "Did I kill it?"

"No." Scorpius grumbled and managed to loop under his arm, finally getting past him. He did his best to ignore the jeering that went on behind his back. The train suddenly bellowed and the ground beneath his feet shuddered. It was moving. Scorpius struggled to keep his balance while holding his owl cage, tipping back and forth a few times along the way. When at last he made it to the empty compartment, he set the cage down onto the seat, climbing up on it as well to try and see out the window. But the station had already passed. His parents were gone, and he hadn't even gotten to wave goodbye to them. That awful Potter boy had gotten in his way. Flopping down onto the seat, Scorpius crossed his arms and stared at the seat in front of him. He was on his way to somewhere he didn't want to go to meet people he didn't wish to meet and learn things he was sure he didn't need to learn.

This, in his opinion, was awful. Why did he need to learn any magic at all? His father had learned plenty and he hardly ever did anything of a magical nature. And it wasn't as though there remained any dark powers ever since Voldemort was killed all those years ago. He may as well just live the life of a Muggle. A knock on his compartment door brought him out of his bitter thinking and in stepped the same little dark-haired boy with glasses that had been staring at him earlier. In his hand was an owl cage with a blue cloth over it. He blinked a few times at the little blonde boy before speaking.

"Um…hi. My name's Albus. Albus Potter."

"I know." Scorpius said, keeping his arms crossed and his glare cold at the empty seat in front of him. "My father said I shouldn't talk to you."

Albus paused, his wide green eyes twinkling with wonder. "Why did he say that?"

Scorpius shrugged. "I don't know. He says a lot of things."

"Oh. Well, can I sit here? All of the other carts are taken, and I really don't want to sit with my brother." He implored, pushing his glasses up on his face.

Scorpius nervously wriggled in his seat, eyes to the side. "Fine."

Albus happily wandered over and took a seat next to Scorpius, setting his owl cage down and leaning over to try and get a good look at the other boy's. "Is that your owl?"

"Of course it's my owl."

"Can I see it?"

Scorpius stared hesitantly at Albus for a moment before reluctantly agreeing, pulling off the cloth over it and revealing the drowsy barn owl.

"He's pretty." Albus chirped. "What's his name?"

"Twistfoot."

"Twistfoot? Why do you call him that?"

Scorpius squinted into the cage before pointing down at the owl's talon. "See that toe right there? I think it was broken or something, and it didn't grow right. So now it's gone all bent and crooked."

Albus looked down at the foot and nodded in understanding. He then turned and pulled the cloth off of his own cage, revealing a rather pudgy-looking snowy owl on a smooth stick. "This is my owl. His name is Codger, because he's always begging for scraps."

Despite his determination to remain indifferent, he leered over at the bird with interest. "He's sort of fat."

"I know. Mom says I should stop feeding him so much. But I can't help it sometimes." Albus reached his fingers through the bars of the cage and stroked the bird's head affectionately.

Scorpius looked at his own owl, which was perfectly mannered, and pulled the cloth back over him. "My father thought I should have a snake, but I don't know if I could get used to one."

"A snake?" Albus gulped slightly, and some worry seemed to pass over his face. He fell silent for a long while before striking up again. "So what…what house do you think you'll be going into?"

Scorpius considered this for a moment before shrugging heavily. "I don't know. My father would be happy if I got put in Slytherin. But my mother says I seem more like a Ravenclaw—like she was. I don't really care."

Albus seemed intrigued. "You don't even care?"

"Well why should I? It's not like I know anyone here, so I can't be upset if they don't put me in a house with my friends."

"I don't know anyone either, really. Just my brother. Oh, and my cousins. And then I guess there's Teddy." Albus looked up as the candy cart was making its way down the isle. "Do you want some?"

"Um…" Scorpius watched as Albus stood and opened the door, gazing up at the serving woman with messy black locks in his face.

"My!" the old woman said. "You look terribly familiar. What would you children like?"

"Come pick something." Albus beckoned.

Scorpius stood up slowly, examining the array of candy with slight distrust. Albus was grabbing various handfuls of things, and so he joined in, reaching for a sucker. Ablus suddenly took it from him, shaking his head. Scorpius turned with a prepared verbal protest, but was cut off.

"That's an acid pop, you don't want that. Here, take some Liqourice Wands."

"Oh. Okay." Scorpius nodded and took the candy that was shoved at him. Soon Albus had picked what he wanted; a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and a chocolate frog for later. They both sat back down as the sweets cart passed, sugar now fueling their conversation. "What house do you think they'll put _you_ in?"

Albus pushed a piece of candy into his mouth and sighed. "I don't know. Practically my whole family is in Gryffindor. I'm scared that I won't end up there."

"Why do you think you won't?" Scorpius queried, more at ease.

"It's just…well I don't want to go into Slytherin. My Unlce Ron told me that they're a nasty bunch and all…and I know he'd be sore if I got put in there. Even my dad said that the Sorting Hat couldn't decide whether or not to place him in Gryffindor or Slytherin. He had to choose which one for himself."

"Then what are you worried about?"

"Well what if it doesn't give me a choice?" Albus sank down in his seat. "I'm not like my dad. I mean everyone says I look just like him, but I'm not brave or smart or…anything."

"You don't seem very much like a Slytherin to me." Scorpius said in a strange mixture between an assurance and a derogatory remark.

Albus looked up just as another girl their age was walking in, her long reddish hair tangled and an angry expression on her face.

"What's the matter, Rose?" Albus asked.

The girl blew a chunk of hair away from her face and set to straightening it out with her fingers. "Your git brother, that's what! Him and his stupid friends took my book away!" her eyes drifted over to Scorpius and she seemed to recognize him, looking between he two boys.

"This is my cousin Rose." Albus introduced.

The girl walked over and sat across from them, arms in her lap. "Oh. It's him. The one Dad was talking about."

Scorpius set his jaw and turned his head away, ready to ignore whatever insults were thrown his way.

"We weren't supposed to talk to him." Rose informed.

"Your dad said not to get too close to him, but mine didn't say anything to me." Albus defended, offering her some of his candy.

"Well after what James just did I hope I'm in Slytherin myself!" Rose huffed, clearly assuming that Scorpius would end up the same way. This partially relieved him. "Just so long as I don't have to eat at the same table as him."

"Your Dad'll go bonkers." Albus reminded.

Rose paused for a long moment. "Albus…help me get my book back. I just had three chapters left! I can't lose it now."

"What do you want me to do? You know what he'll do to me if I go out there."

"He's _your_ brother."

"That's not my fault!"

"Oh please Al?" she begged, clasping her hands together.

Albus sighed, giving Scorpius a sidelong glance. "Alright, fine. Come on. I'll go with you." The two children stood up, Albus following his cousin ruefully. He turned before he left and looked back at Scorpius. "I guess I'll be seeing you. Will you watch my owl until I come back for him? If my brother gets a hold of him again…here, you'd better take my candy, too."

Scorpius looked over to the lonely cage and nodded. "Okay." He watched as Albus disappeared and left him once more alone in the compartment. He looked down into the bag of candy that sat in his palm and wondered.

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_Note: Yes, I took liberty with a few things. For instance, Luna being Draco's wife. Granted, there is no link between them that I'm aware of, but I think it's a funny fit and that Draco could be genuinely happy with someone as happily mad as she. I like to think of him as having gotten at least the kindness of a nice wife. She also contributes some important factors within the character of Scorpius I've also taken liberty of. R & R, if it didn't bore you to tears yet._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Author's Note: Thank you very much to those of you who reviewed so far. This chapter is rather short. I regret making the decision to lop it off of the last chapter, but tacking it on to the next one would make an unbeatable beast of doom, so prepare for a long one shortly coming._

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It was a long ride to Hogwarts. If it weren't for the owl to his right, he would have assumed that Albus wasn't coming back. Mostly he stared out the window at the place he assumed his parents were standing when the train had left, which was all now nothing but a darkening sky to him. He wondered what the school would be like. His parents had painted him mental pictures of talking portraits, roaming ghosts, moving staircases, and mysterious creatures. However, as his father did not dwell on such memories with a great deal of happiness, most of what he had been told had come from his mother, who's word he had always been wary of taking. For all he knew it could be a big, stuffy, boring old penitentiary where he was forced to learn formulas and Latin day in and day out. He would hardly be surprised, in fact, if there was nothing magical at all about Hogwarts. Just a bunch of morose old adults lecturing children on how to live life as a wizard who does no magic. How could his father have lied to him—telling him he would love it? Who could love school anyway? Scorpius sighed and rested his head against the window.

The train began slowing down and Scorpius steadied both owl cages with his hands. At last it had reached its destination, but Albus had yet to return for his owl. The train was quickly at a stop, and children began pouring out of the compartments around him at a rapid pace.

"Wait, I've got to fetch my owl!" cried a voice, and Scorpius cautiously stood to look down the isle.

"Don't worry Al, I'll get him." James's voice came in, much closer.

"No, leave him alone! James!" Albus called after.

Scorpius backed away from the door, dreading the arrival of James Potter. It was obvious that he was nothing but a bully and that did not bode well for some hapless caged bird. He looked back to Albus's owl and quickly formed a plan, lifting the sheet up and opening the door. He reached an arm in hurriedly. "Come on Codger, come out." Much to his surprise, the owl willingly stepped onto his wrist and allowed him to remove it. Scorpius popped the door closed and threw the sheet back over before going back to his own cage and opening that. "Make some room, Twistfoot." He ordered, pushing the pudgy owl through the opening. "…A lot of room." He thrust down the cover over the now overpopulated cage just in time as James appeared at the door, carelessly barging in with Albus clinging to him from behind.

"Leave him be, James, I never touch your owl!"

"That's because if you did you wouldn't have any fingers left." James stuck out his tongue. "Buckbeak doesn't let anyone but me touching him." With that, he snatched the top of the cage clumsily and pushed Albus out of the way, recklessly dragging it behind him. Scorpius sat aside with a blank stare, watching the scene nervously and hoping that no one would involve him.

"James!"

"I'm just carrying him for you! Why don't you try a 'thank you'?" James teased as he pushed through the isle. Scorpius quickly stood and gripped his cage, struggling with the added weight and praying that the two birds wouldn't start squabbling as he followed after. He hopelessly tried to get Albus's attention, but since he could not, he simply had to pursue. Rose joined in too, yelling at James for a mysterious wet stain on her now reclaimed book.

"Look I'm sorry, Rosie, the train jolted, alright?" he snickered as he waved the cage about.

Albus reached for it in vain. "Stop it! You'll make him sick!"

"So what? It's not like he couldn't afford to drop a few pounds." James waggled the cage tauntingly when someone knocked into him from behind with a suitcase they were taking down, sending him staggering forward and causing him to drop the cage. It rolled, crashing into the side wall and flying out the door down the steps in a jarring motion. After several bouncing landings, it came to a twisted halt in the dirt outside.

"Codger!" yelped Albus as he leapt out of the train. James stared down in shocked horror, mouth agape and eyes on the cage as his little brother fell to his knees by it. He tore off the cloth from the cage, only to reveal its emptiness. His terror dissipated instantly to be replaced by utter confusion as he stared at the bent but unoccupied cage. "W…where did he go?" he sputtered.

Scorpius quickly plunged a hand into his cage and plucked out the unharmed white owl, carrying it down the steps and over to Albus as a miniature crowd of spectators watched. "He's right here. I took him out." Scorpius said as he thrust the owl outward.

Codger hooted and climbed to Albus's shoulder. "Codger! I thought…" Albus started joyously as he pet his flighted companion. He quickly turned his anger towards James. "You could've killed him!"

James held up his hands. "I…I-I knew he wasn't in there of course! Otherwise I wouldn't have done it!" Unwilling to be accused further in this obviously ill-advised act, James slipped away to grab his things, pretending that the incident meant nothing.

Albus leaned over and pulled up the dusty cage, looking it over to see if it was broken and clucking his tongue in disappointment to see a few turned-in bars. After a moment of dusting it off, he deposited his owl back inside, turning back to Scorpius. "Thanks for saving my owl. I can't believe you did that. It's like you knew just what would happen."

Scorpius looked down at his shoes, eyes then wavering on his own left-behind cage. "Sure. Here's your candy."

"You can keep it." Albus insisted, waving to Rose, who was motioning him back in the train. "Will you come sit with us during the sorting ceremony?"

Scorpius looked back to the train to retrieve his belongings and owl, nodding. "Okay. I'll…see you."

Albus toddled past him with one more brilliant smile before slipping back into the train. Scorpius watched thoughtfully before doing the same.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you for the kind reviews! This is the obligatory sorting chapter, of course._

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Hogwarts was thus far not what Scorpius had expected it to be. It didn't look like a boring, stuffy penitentiary at all from the outside—but rather an emporium of magic the likes of which he had never seen. Students stood around practicing their minor spells, having been deprived all summer of being able to use them. Owls flew free overhead after a long journey being cooped up in cages. Races of creatures he had only heard of in stories roamed the grounds. He felt almost overwhelmed following throngs upon throngs of children into the halls of the school and had a childish urge to reach up for his mother's hand. They were all immediately ushered from the enormous castle-like structure into the hall to be sorted off straight away, where house banners hung up above in colorful display.

Scorpius's eyes drifted upwards towards the Slytherin crest and he felt oddly intimidated. The serpents seem to loom over him and in his mind he saw the cycling images of his father as well as his grandparents—whom he had only seen in one lone portrait in his father's study but whom he knew had been of the same house. It was a crest he had glanced upon a thousand times but never truly looked at, but now that it hung as the immense symbol before his eyes, his destiny felt sealed. If he needed any more proof, even a long look at the Ravenclaw banner and its representative familiar eagle did not present similar sparks of connection. Feeling another student bump into him and curse him for standing out of queue, Scorpius stopped his gawking and quickly got a move on to find a seat amongst the great horde of children. He searched diligently through the crowds of black-robed figures, but he could find no signs of the small-statured Albus or his cousin Rose. When it became evident that there was no way to wade through the massive amount of bodies, Scorpius resigned his search and sat at a gap towards the end of the table in wait as the preparations for the ceremony commenced.

His attention was drawn as an elderly but very tall, stately woman stood from the row of Hogwarts professors and made her way to a small podium, which sat at the center of the room's forequarters above a sea of young boys and girls. She watched with patient eyes as the last of the students filed in and took their seats, so patiently in fact that it was almost as though she had no intention of addressing the congregation at all. When the last child found their place among the others and the blathering dull roar of them had dropped in light of the woman standing before them, she moved as if to speak.

The woman lifted up her arms, dark robes draping out from her and her white hair tied up underneath her large pointed hat, her eyes twinkling out from behind nearly invisible spectacles seated on her face. When she spoke, her tone was strict but cordial. "Good evening, young witches and wizards alike. It is my pleasure to welcome you all for the first time to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

A few bolder students began to openly cheer, and at the instigation the majority of the populous began to follow suit. The woman held up her hand to silence them, however, unwilling to sit through mindless cheering.

"My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Unfortunately it seems that your new headmaster is running a bit late, and so for now I will be taking over the duties of sorting each of you into your respective houses. I apologize for the lack of a…proper introduction." She announced. The students turned inward upon themselves, chattering in whispers of confusion before another wave of the speaker's hand quieted them. "Before we begin, I feel I should let you all know that things will begin a bit differently this year. Due to the temporary misplacement of the first students on our roster, the Allan sextuplets…"

Professor McGonagall let a long glare fall upon Hagrid, a large half giant with bushy hair riddled in gray streaks, who was ringing his robes between his massive hands pensively. "Little buggers slipped right out from under me, they did…" he admitted guiltily.

McGonagall turned her severe expression back towards the students in continuation. "…the sorting ceremony will commence starting in the reverse order. This will be beginning with our last student to be sorted, Miss Ingrid Zora."

All heads swiveled around to try and locate this student at once, all seeming a bit surprised at the suddenness of the start of things. It was a shuffled matter of seconds before a small girl with short brown hair wobbled to her feet in the middle of the commotion with all eyes glued to her. She swallowed nervously and clasped her hands together, head down as she made her way to the front of the room and the tall stool sitting in front of the podium. The room was dead silent and she was shaking madly.

McGonagall watched as the little girl climbed up onto the seat and sat with her hands tucked underneath her, lower lip trembling as though she were about to be sentenced to death. McGonagall lifted the twisted, mumbling Sorting Hat up off of a table's surface and carried it over before setting it onto the child's head. Ingrid winced, whimpering as if the hat had burned her before prying one eye open to look up at it. "Hmmm." The hat crowed. "Too fidgety, this one. Certainly not a Gryffindor. But you've got more in your head than corn husks, that's for certain. …Ravenclaw!"

Ingrid blinked slowly as the hat was taken off of her head. She immediately scurried off the chair and hustled back to her seat, heart racing. "Uh, congratulations, child. Ravenclaw, the house that values a sharp mind and level head. Keep your grades up." McGonagall called after. "Let's continue, shall we? Alexander Zion."

Scorpius watched as each student accepted their placement, some elated, some rather indifferent, some seeming completely stunned by the looks on their faces. After the first few students, the other unsorted ones began to gain more confidence, seeing that this large ordeal was apparently more harmless than they had supposed. The sorted ones clapped quietly in approval each time a member of their house was added.

"Richard Zamboli."

"Connifer Youngman."

"Claudia Young."

"Amos Yorrick."

"Gregory Xavier."

"Thomas Xander."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Slytherin!"

"Slytherin!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Hufflepuff!"

Scorpius watched them all head to their spots with their newfound place. He resented those who were surprised at their selection. Already knowing exactly where he was headed made the entire experience boring to him.

"Rose Weasley."

He looked up at this, recognizing the name as the girl he had met on the train. He strained to pick out her bushy scarlet hair in the dense clumps of students, and soon spotted her as she nervously made her way up to the stool. Rose paused as she came to the stool and took a deep breath before she sat, fingers secretly crossed against her chest and eyes closed as she waited for the hat to speak. As soon as it landed on her head, it made short work, and with a listless jab of dry laughter, it muttered dismissively, "Gryffindor, of course."

Rose's eyes flew open instantly, a grin spreading across her face as fellow established Gryffindors clapped for her. She leapt off the stool into the crowd gleefully, shouting, "Albus! Did you hear? I'm a Gryffindor!"

McGonagall had the ghost of a smile on her face as she watched the girl run off, pausing for a moment in her thus far fast routine. She quickly shook out of her reverie and continued on with the list. "Winston Walters."

Scorpius waited patiently through the long list of names, trying to find out where his new acquaintances had gotten to.

"Ravenclaw!"

"Slytherin!"

"Ravenclaw!"

He had to lean around a rather tall boy sitting across from him to find them, but sure enough he caught their position a few tables away. Rose, though clearly overjoyed by her placement into the Gryffindor house, seemed a tad more solemn than she had a moment ago, her hand resting on young Albus's shoulder. The boy looked slightly paler, clearly still worried about which house he would be filed into. He partly wanted to go over to them for the sake of company and not being singled out, but he was sure that they weren't supposed to be moving around and he didn't want any eyes on him.

"Harold Pratt."

Scorpius watched this time as a fat little boy with dirty blonde hair scrambled up to the chair, panting as he came to a halt even after such a short distance. A few students snickered at his expense, but he didn't pay them any mind, struggling to get himself up onto the stool. When it became embarrassingly clear that he could not make it up himself, the entirety of the adjacent student body erupted into peals of laughter. McGonagall gave a lengthy glare. "Children, that's quite enough." She scolded.

Hagrid reached ahead and hoisted up the boy by the shirt easily, depositing him on the stool. By this time Harold was quite red-cheeked and flustered, pushing away his messy, longish blonde tresses out of his face. His eyes nearly went crossed as he peered up at the hat set on his head, and he placed his hands into his lap compliantly. "_Please_ don't put me in Hufflepuff." He begged in a small voice with an Australian lilt. "I'll never be able to live down all the jokes. Creampuff. Puff n'Stuff. Huff and Puff. You just can't do it to me."

"Pipe down, boy." The hat commanded. "You're a clear Slytherin if I ever sat atop one."

Harold's eyes seemed to double in size. "Really? You mean it?"

"Stop wasting my time you little porker and get on with it!"

"Er, y-yes sir! Ma'am! Um…okay!" Harold clumsily pitched his weight forward and ended up face first on the ground, causing another tremendous riot among his peers. With a sheepish grin, he slowly got up and made his way back to be seated, many of his preordered Slytherin brethren giving him supremely dirty looks. Even Scorpius partially sneered, wanting nothing to do with the hapless little buffoon himself.

There seemed to be a strange moment of preparation as the next name was considered, Professor McGonagall folding her hands in front of her with what was for the first time a true smile on her face. "Albus Severus Potter."

This time, a great portion of the crowed clapped quite loudly. After all, everyone knew the story of the great Harry Potter, the man responsible for the defeat of Lord Voldemort himself. Obviously the professors who remembered his father held a very sentimental spot for Albus as well, watching with smiles as the dark-haired little fellow wandered up to the front of the room with a very timid expression.

"Don't be afraid, Albus." Hagrid addressed him from where he stood. "Just get on up there."

Albus stared up at the giant man through owl-eyed glasses that fell down the bridge of his nose as he did so. "I know. I-I'm not afraid." He lied blatantly.

Scorpius watched in awe as the faculty body up front looked upon Albus with adoration, perhaps feeling as though once more they were watching their own beloved Harry Potter start from the very beginning. Albus squirmed under the hat and his hands gripped the side of the seat reverently in anticipation.

"Another Potter boy, is it?" the hat mused. "It's always a difficult decision with these ones…" it settled in and seemed to think for a moment before speaking again. "Albus Potter, you are best placed in…" the child in question took a few panicked breaths as his eyes gazed toward his cousin in the crowd. "…Gryffindor."

Albus's breath came out in a rush, blinking several times in revelation as a loud cheer began to gather around him. The moment soon caught up to him, and a dazed grin spread across his face. "Gryffindor? Gryffindor! You mean it?"

"Unless you'd like me to put you somewhere else." The hat replied.

"Oh, no! No, of course not!" Albus shook his head, hopping off the seat as the hat was removed. Students clapped and shouted their congratulations and praises at him as he walked back to his seat.

Scorpius's shoulders dropped slightly in disappointment, a sigh rushing through his nostrils. Even though Albus had adamantly wished against it, Scorpius had hoped that he would be placed in Slytherin with him. Then at least he would have one person he knew taking classes and playing Quidditch with him. Now he was left with no one. A horrifying scenario played out in his head of sitting at the deserted end of the table at lunch next to who was sure to be the equally rejected Harold Pratt. All hopes dashed, he rested his cheek in his palm and sat in defeat to wait for his announcement.

"Scorpius Malfoy." Came the call a few minutes later.

Scorpius stood and began making his way up to the front with his eyes down, but the moment he looked up he realized something. All was silent again. Every pair of eyes was staring at him. The feeling of being watched so closely almost made him stop dead in his tracks, but he consciously reminded himself to keep walking as soon as the threat of petrification set in. If Albus had been greeted with warmth and welcome, Scorpius felt as though he was met with precisely the opposite. Whispers of '_Malfoy_' all around him echoed in a chorus of contempt. The professors did not look upon him with smiles, save for Hagrid, but it didn't seem to be a genuinely friendly one. A particular woman he did not recognize—a straight-faced woman with short dark hair and an icy stare—looked at him as though he personally had put a stake through her heart. He swallowed and tried to ignore the cold atmosphere he had walked into as he climbed up onto the stool. A few Slytherin picks openly clapped for him, but that was perhaps only two or three. Harold was among them, smacking his pudgy hands together enthusiastically.

Proffessor McGonagall took the hat and placed it gently onto Scorpius's head, offering him a polite nod as she did so in a small attempt to assuage his nerves. His heart slowed to a practical halt and he felt slightly ill at all of the students staring at him. He wished the stupid hat would get it over with already.

The hat twisted and mumbled on his head, stopping for a moment of silence before it let out a strangely amused hum. "This is strange indeed." The hat announced. Everyone seemed to lean in closer at this statement. "I never thought I'd see the day…that a _Malfoy_ would belong to Gryffindor."

At first, Scorpius was completely unaware as to who the hat was speaking about, and found it quite rude that the hat should be mentioning someone else while it was supposed to be sorting _him_. But the quiet gasps and looks of utter bewilderment on the faces of his fellow students made him reconsider his evaluation of things. He blinked, lips parting and brow furrowing as he attempted to process this.

"Go on, boy." The hat encouraged gruffly.

Scorpius was fully numb from shock as he wobbly stood. _Gryffindor.__ Gryffindor?!_ He struggled to keep himself straight when the weight of the Sorting Hat was removed. The Slytherin children who had been rooting for him a moment ago now stared at him as though he were dirt. The Gryffindor sorted looked at him with a much purer hatred, however.

"_Him_? He's in _our_ house?"

"This has to be a joke!"

"The headmaster can't let this happen. When he hears about this I'm sure he'll put a stop to it!"

Angry whispers spiraled around Scorpius's head and he felt very dizzy. Just as he thought he might fall over, a hand reached out and snatched him by the sleeve, pulling him over to face down at Albus, who he had somehow been prepared to walk right by. "You're a Gryffindor, Scorpius!" he beamed. "Isn't that great? I thought we would get to see each other at all!"

Scorpius slowly sat down, his silver eyes wide with horror as he stared through Rose and Albus.

"Scorpius?" Rose questioned lightly. "Are you alright? You seem a bit…distraught."

Scorpius bowed his head to the table with a thunk. "Alright? Of course I'm not alright! My father's going to kill me!"

Both children went to pat his shoulder before the main doors to the hall suddenly creaked open, drawing everyone's attention to the entrance. A man leaned in through the doorway almost as if he were afraid of what lay inside. Once he found that everyone was staring at him, however, he quickly made a panicked move to leave.

"Ah, Headmaster!" called McGonagall sharply before the man had a chance to flee. He froze as though caught doing something atrocious and turned with a look on his face not unlike a scared rabbit.

"What? What did I do?" he squeaked.

McGonagall motioned to the room full of students with a short gesture. "This is the sorting ceremony. I'm afraid we were forced to start without you."

"Oh. Yes." The man nodded, standing up straight. "Um, about that. I was a little lost. You know, new school and all! New job. New shoes, to boot." He pointed at a pair of black loafers on his feet proudly. "Did you know that there's a group of identical children wandering about the halls just now?"

"Those Allan boys!" Hagrid growled in exasperation as he got up and left in a hurry. He squeezed past the apparent headmaster with a belated 'excuse me' and vanished with loud, storming footsteps.

"In any case, now that you're here," McGonagall continued, "won't you be continuing the ceremony yourself?"

"I suppose so." He agreed, walking hurriedly a few feet ahead. He stopped halfway and walked quickly back to shut the heavy doors before rushing again to the front. He took McGonagall's place at the podium and cleared his throat. "Hello! I um…well this is…you see…" he slowly looked back at her in hopes for aid.

McGonagall gestured for him to go on rather tiredly. "Perhaps you should start with your _name_, Headmaster."

"Of course! Just about to suggest that myself. Er, I mean, about to do so." He turned back to the students, lip twitching underneath his mustache. He certainly didn't seem like a headmaster in any sense. His attire was anything but a classical wizard wardrobe, dressed in an oak-colored suit with a white shirt underneath, a silver and black plaid tie, and a pair of dark brown pants. He was most likely in his mid to late fifties with his rather wrinkled face, mussed white hair and an equally gray mustache that seemed to move as if of its own accord every other moment. His pale blue eyes scanned the crowd through thin, oval glasses and he behaved in a rather distracted, scatter-brained fashion, constantly looking over his shoulders as if he were convinced that the other professors were making faces at him behind his back. "My name is Headmaster Tobias Alfred Greenwood. Shall we begin the ceremony then?"

"It's begun, Tobias." McGonagall said lowly. "It's up to you to finish it."

"Oh. Alright then. Let's see." Headmaster Greenwood furrowed his brow and studied the parchment before him carefully. "Scorpius Malfoy, you're up!"

McGonagall sighed, stepping up to his side to whisper to him.

"_That's_ our headmaster?" Rose asked incredulously. "He's positively batty!"

"I think he's perfect." Scorpius spat bitterly in return. "This whole place is batty if you ask me." He looked over as Albus nudged his shoulder and smiled.

"It's not so bad, Scorpius. You'll see. My mum and dad say this is the greatest place on earth. Just give it a chance."

The small blonde offered only a sigh and a pitiful puppy-eyed look in reply.

It was an hour later when Greenwood had at last managed to finish up the rest of the sorting, much to the frustration of the students, who were nearly starved by this point. When the Allan sextuplets had finally been accounted for, the headmaster took over once more to give his final introductions.

"Well now that all that's out of the way, allow me to introduce you to the heads of your respective houses. Clearly you've all met Professor Minerva McGonagall of Gryffindor. Allow me to introduce you to Ms. Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff," he gestured to a woman about their parents' age with blonde hair in a ponytail and a flitting smile on her face. "Professor Filius Flitwick of Ravenclaw," a short fellow with a slightly goblinesque look to him nodded. "And Professor Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin." The other young woman with the glassy stare and dark locks smirked at her introduction. "And then of course we have our gamekeeper Hagrid. With that said, let's all get something to eat, shall we?"

The students instantly burst into cheers at this suggestion, momentarily frightening Greenwood into ducking before he realized that this was a pleased reaction and smiled modestly.

* * *

_A/N: A few things. I took a very random stab at house heads and such, and completely invented the new Headmaster out of thin air, so if you don't like these choices...sorry. I didn't know what else to do, really. And yes, before someone jumps down my throat, I'm sure that just because Pansy Parkinson is the head of Slytherin household doesn't necessarily mean she would also be the potions master like Snape was. Why is she, then? It's just convinient for me. And yes I put them all in Gryffindor. None of these, however, are completely spontaneous decisions that will never be at least somewhat explained. Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_Erf. Sorry, I know chapters may seem a long time coming. Been busy lately. I also apologize for this one being on the short side, but I doubt any of them will be this short from here on out. Once I get to writing them, that is. Oo Anyway, thank you very much for the kind reviews. And yes, I just had to put Scorpius into Gryffindor. I thought that was a fun little piece of hell to throw his way._

* * *

"I can't believe it. It's finally over. And I'm in Gryffindor!" Albus said happily as he bit into a sweet roll.

"Yeah. We're all in Gryffindor." Muttered Scorpius spitefully as he hunched his shoulders, trying desperately to deflect all of the angry glares from his table.

"Don't feel so bad." Albus said, turning to him. "I thought you didn't even care which house you got put into."

"Well I didn't think it'd be Gryffindor!" he tapped his fork incessantly on the edge of his plate. "Everyone's been looking at me like they want to murder me. What am I going to write home?"

Rose shrugged from across the table. "I guess you could just _say_ you were in Slytherin."

Scorpius shook his head. "They'd find out. They'd know. Dad _always_ knows when I'm lying."

"Well I'm glad you're in Gryffindor." Albus noted defiantly. "Now we can be friends. I'll see you in classes, at games—we can even be roommates. I thought I was going to have to spend the whole year alone." He quickly cleared his throat, eyes switching to his cousin. "Um, not including you, Rose."

Rose was hardly paying attention all the same, as she was currently absorbed in a conversation with Mandi Patil, another Gryffindor who sat close by.

Scorpius was silent, thinking to himself about what Albus had said. It was true, he had also been down about not knowing anyone. Maybe Gryffindor wouldn't be so bad. He would just have to break it to his father subtly… He jolted as a boy rammed into him while walking by, a group of his fellow students trailing after him. The boy twisted around with an angry glare, his friends following and all staring at Scorpius.

"What's the big idea, _Malfoy_?" the boy hissed as though he had been purposefully shoved.

"What idea? I didn't do anything." Scorpius stated with a sneer. "Maybe if you weren't so clumsy it wouldn't've happened."

The sandy brown-haired boy leaned over him furiously. "Maybe if you weren't at _our_ table it wouldn't've happened."

Scorpius set his jaw, but didn't say anything.

"This is all of our table!" Albus intervened, his gentle face contorted into an almost comical expression of anger.

"No, this is the Gryffindor table." The boy returned, intruding in on Albus's personal space as well. "As in it's for Gryffindors only. Which means no snakes allowed!" The students behind him nodded in agreement.

"He's _not_ a snake." Albus threw out his small chest rebelliously.

"He was sorted into Gryffindor just like the rest of us." Rose added haughtily, in case the boy had somehow missed that fact during the ceremony.

"That was a mistake. I'll bet he rigged the hat or something to say that." The boy insisted in offense.

"What am I supposed to do about it?" Scorpius pointed out.

"Asked to be moved to Slytherin, where you belong!" he snapped. "If you don't, we'll be telling the headmaster ourselves. And boy you'll be sorry when he finds out what you did."

Scorpius watched them go with ignited bluish grey eyes, pushing his fork aside and resigning his meal.

"Don't listen to them." Albus advised, sticking his tongue out at them as they went. "You didn't do anything. We all saw."

"Of course I didn't." Scorpius growled back, crossing his arms. "Why would I _want_ to be in Gryffindor?"

"Well it _is_ the greatest of the houses." Rose stated as though it were common knowledge. "You should consider yourself lucky."

"Well I don't." the blonde pouted stubbornly.

Albus smiled sympathetically, offering Scorpius his chocolate frog.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_Thanks to all who have decided to continue on with the story! You've all been very fair reviewers._

* * *

When Scorpius sat down to the desk next to Albus and Rose, all he could do was worry about his soon to begin first class. He had Potions with Professor Parkinson, a rather eerie woman in her own right, and the atmosphere of dark, foreboding seriousness of the room wasn't any more comforting. Hanging on the wall up front was a portrait of a man with black hair and a dour scowl on his face that Scorpius vaguely recognized, but whom he was sure he had never met.

"That's Severus Snape." Rose supplied, whispering over to her cousin. Scorpius leaned over to hear as well.

"Him? _That's_ the great Hogwarts professor I was named after?" Albus asked hesitantly. "But he looks so mean…"

"I'd imagine he had to. Don't you know anything about him? He died a hero, you know. He risked his life for years posing as a Death Eater for the Dark Lord in order to leak their secrets to the old Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."

Albus looked at the picture harder and shrugged. "Dad didn't tell me all _that_."

"Of course not. My parents didn't tell me, either. They think we're too young to hear about the war." Rose agreed ruefully, clearly annoyed by the omissions of adults. "It wouldn't kill you to read a history book every once in a while, though."

Albus made a face at her and turned to Scorpius. "What do you think it'll be like?" he asked.

"Boring." Scorpius snorted. In actuality he found potions more interesting than other subjects, but he was not about to let that spoil his already sour attitude. "I bet all we do is take notes and listen to her blather on about stuff we'll never even get to try for ourselves."

"You think so?" Albus seemed disheartened.

Most of the chatter died down as the Potions Master Professor Parkinson, head of the Slytherin house, walked into the room in a tight black dress with bright red lips and chin-length hair perfectly straight around her face. Her dark eyes scanned the classroom of students before she held up a hand commandingly. "Quiet."

The majority of the students shut their mouths immediately, save for one overly talkative little boy continuing to obliviously jabber on at one of his friends.

Professor Parkinson simply removed her wand from a sleeve and pointed it at the boy. "_Silencio_."

His voice cut off mid-sentence, which threw him into an instant panic, gripping at his throat and looking around in terror as the other students gasped.

"That's better." The Professor smiled, tucking her wand away. "Don't worry about that, Mr. Bellfred. It's a perfectly simple charm to remove." She turned back to her table, fiddling with a wrack of vials she kept on the desk. "Unfortunately I am not the Charms Professor, so you're on your own."

Scorpius, Albus, and Rose all looked at each other before turning back at the boy in question, whose eyes went wide and face drained of color. The three quickly all faced front and sat up straight, not wishing to receive any similar sort of punishment.

Professor Parkinson crossed her arms across her chest and seemed to size up each and every one of them in the dead silence before she spoke again. "Alright. Since you're the new tadpoles, why don't you just go ahead and show me exactly how hopeless you are? That way I'll know if I can begin teaching from the first year handbook, or if I need to start back in the stone age." She reached a hand down at her side and held up a rippling golden potion, waggling it in front of the class. "Can any one of you identify this rare little number?"

Rose's hand immediately shot up, her inability to leave a question unanswered overriding her growing fear.

"Ah, Miss Weasley." Parkinson said in amusement. "However could I doubt that you would be the first to come forth? _Clearly_ your mother's daughter…" she said this with an underlying venom that made Rose recoil, her hand falling. "No no!" Parkinson scolded, waggling a finger. "Don't chicken out. Give me your answer."

Rose swallowed, looking between Scorpius and Albus for a moment before presenting her answer. "That's…a Felix Felicis potion. It enhances the drinker's luck."

"That's absolutely right!" Parkinson grinned, setting it aside. "Why I bet you've just about read every book in the whole world, haven't you?"

Stung by the mocking tone, Rose looked down and folded her hands into her lap, not feeling much like the star student she'd planned to be.

"Apparently I can't ask you any more questions. Miss Weasley here is set on eating them all up before you've got a chance to answer. So let's test your knowledge some other way." Parkinson picked up another vial and sauntered slowly around the desks, eying each student she passed and making them cringe at her imposing presence. "Let me see now…Ah ha." She stopped, a wicked smile on her face, leering down at the chubby blonde boy whose back she stood behind. "Harold, is it?"

Harold Pratt gulped audibly, seated pathetically alone at a desk with his hands clasped together on the surface. "Y-yes Ma'am." He confirmed with a nod.

"Splendid. Tell me something, Harold," Professor Parkinson spun around, appearing at his front as she set a vial full of blue liquid before him. "Would you ever think that this itty bitty little shot of liquid could cause a big…strapping fellow such as yourself harm?"

"Well…I dunno." Harold swallowed again and stared at the vial. "I s'pose if it was poisoned or something."

"You suppose." Parkinson repeated. "Well there's only one way to find out for sure, isn't there? Drink it."

Harold broke out into a sweat, eyes flashing between teacher and potion in terror.

"Well? Are you an insubordinate, Harold? I haven't gotten a chance to mention how much I loathe insubordination, have I?"

"No—no Ma'am! I'm not!" Harold shook his head.

Professor Parkinson clamped her hands down on either corner of his desk and leaned over him, making him sink down in his seat to get away from her dangerous serpentine stare. "Then drink it."

Harold looked around the classroom for help, completely missing Rose shaking her head discretely at him as if to discourage him from obeying.

"Come on, Harold, you might as well! We all know you're starving." Snickered a boy from behind. A few students laughed in following.

Harold, not wanting to be punished, reluctantly reached for the vial set before him, watching as Parkinson smiled devilishly down at him. With a high-pitched, nervous laugh, he downed the blue fluid in one swallow, cracking the container back down onto the desk. He clenched his eyes shut in preparation for his head to explode or his skin to catch fire and some of the students along a similar line of thinking moved their chairs even further away from him. When he did not burst like an overfilled balloon, however, his eyes slowly opened. He turned up his hands and examined his palms meticulously, pulling up his sleeves on each arm a bit to make sure his skin was intact there as well.

"Well?" Parkinson straightened up. "How do you feel, Harold?"

"Um…" the nervous Slytherin boy thought for a long moment. "Fine, actually. …A bit itchy, I guess." He began scratching his arm. "Maybe…a lot itchy." He shortly began to scratch more vigorously, brows fixed in concentration and tongue lolling out of one side of his mouth. Suddenly, breaking apart in the scratched red areas of his arm, small, white sprouts began to grow, twisting up out of his skin. Identical marks appeared on his face as well, popping out of him as though he were a human heap of fertilizer to take the familiar shape of spongy mushrooms. "Holy dooley! Get 'em off!" he exclaimed in astonishment as he tried to brush them off. A few broke at the head and fell to the desk and floor, much to the other students' simultaneous disgust and delight.

Professor Parkinson watched unhelpingly as Harold wallowed in panic, slender arms folded once again over her chest. "Miss Weasley, if you could be so bold as to tell us what Mr. Pratt just unwittingly ingested. I'm sure you're positively dying to clue us in."

Rose trembled slightly as all eyes fell on her once more, lowering her head when she responded. "…A Toadstool Elixir."

"Let that be your first lesson, children." Parkinson stated priggishly. "Never—_ever_—should you or are you permitted to drink a potion unless you are fully aware of its origins, nature, and effects. Not ever in your life, and most especially never in my classroom. Is that incontestably, pristinely clear?"

"Yes Ma'am." The class replied brokenly.

"Good. Let's get on with it."

Albus blinked at Harold a few more times in shock before wriggling uncomfortably in his seat. "You don't think she'll really leave him like that, do you?" he whispered.

Rose shook her head solemnly. "It only lasts a few hours. But still…it's cruel to humiliate him like that. Especially…well, someone like him."

Scorpius watched as Harold sighed and rested a cheek on his fist miserably, eyes fixated on the large mushroom protruding from his forehead. "It's his own fault. He shouldn't have drunk it."

"Well she pushed him." Rose countered. "I bet you'd've done the same thing."

"Would not." Scorpius returned as he poked the corner of his alchemy book with the end of a quill. "He's just lucky she didn't slip him some Draught of Living Death and had his parents bury him."

Albus covered his mouth to keep from giggling aloud. Scorpius looked over and smirked, satisfied that he had won the argument.

"Are you speaking out of turn, boy?" a sharp voice cut the smirk from his face like a knife, his eyes flashing to Professor Parkinson as she approached their desk. If he had convinced himself that she hadn't been giving him the evil eye during the Sorting Ceremony, all of it was undone, as he was certain he saw murder in her eyes now. "I thought I made it perfectly clear that I do not tolerate talking in my class."

"Oh...uh…" Scorpius uttered succinctly, unsure of what else to say in the presence of this woman who appeared to particularly hate him.

"Oh?" she sneered. "Is that all you have to say for yourself, you little brat?"

Scorpius shrugged, looking to his friends in slight panic. "Um…"

"I see your parents didn't bother teaching you any manners." She leaned down over him, giving him the impression that she was a dragon about to devour him whole. It was easy to imagine smoke spiraling from her nostrils. "But why should they? Malfoys are above that, aren't they?"

Scorpius turned his head away slightly but kept his eyes on her. "No." he quipped, ready to stubbornly defend his parents.

"Then prove it." She snapped, slapping his opened textbook closed. "Why don't you apologize to me like a gentlemen? That's the least you can do for me."

Scorpius narrowed his eyes, unwilling to comply, but he didn't want to get into trouble on his very first day. His father was sure to find out about it if he did. "I-I'm sorry." He apologized.

As opposed to appeasing her, however, this only seemed to just barely keep her temper at bay. "Alright then. If you insist on being in the limelight, let's see how far _your_ knowledge of the subject goes."

_Oh no._ Thought Scorpius grimly.

"Without help from your little friends," Parkinson shot a searing glare at Rose, "tell me the two key ingredients required to brew _Langlock_."

Scorpius felt a bit light-headed. Obviously she had chosen a potion she was certain was beyond his level. He had never even heard of such a concoction, let alone knew what could possibly be in it. He stared up at her helplessly while trying to retain his Malfoy composure, but he felt himself cracking under the pressure. "I-I don't know." He admitted.

"You don't know?" Parkinson repeated in a tone that feigned surprise. "That's all, Mr. Malfoy? You give up? You don't even have the courage to guess? And to think they put you in Gryffindor!"

Scorpius grimaced before trying to think of every exotic ingredient he had knowledge of. "Um…Mandrake root?"

Professor Parkinson snorted loudly. "No. Not even close."

Scorpius stared up at her with as much defiance as a frightened eleven-year-old boy could muster. "I don't know what goes into that potion, alright?"

"That's because it isn't a potion." She stated monotonously. "The only two components required to create _Langlock_ are a wizard and a wand. It's a spell, you little twit. And one I will more than happily place on that silly blonde head of yours should you ever even entertain the notion of opening your mouth in my class again."

"But that's not fair—how was I supposed to know that?" Scorpius started up as she began to turn away.

"You poor, coddled little boy. I suppose it never even occurred to you that you would have to actually learn something. And since you're so far behind that you couldn't even decipher a spoken spell from a potion, it's going to cost your house." Parkinson turned her back to him in satisfaction, stating flippantly, "Fifty points from Gryffindor."

Scorpius felt a cold sensation in the pit of his stomach, every heated, furious glare from his fellow Gryffindors leaving a tingling sensation on his skin. Wilting like an over risen pastry, Scorpius slid down in his seat, scowling but not bothering to look over as a crumpled up piece of paper smacked him in the head.


	6. Chapter 6

Chater Six

_I thought I'd posted this days ago! My bad._

* * *

"That old bat has it in for me!" Scorpius snarled as he marched down the hall, Albus keeping a quick pace beside him and Rose trailing wordlessly behind.

"I'm sure she doesn't…" Albus tried.

"Well she didn't take any points from Slytherin, and Harold didn't pass her test either." Scorpius pointed out.

"Maybe she just thought his punishment was already bad enough."

"_Him_?" Scorpius retorted incredulously. "What about me? She took fifty points from me! As if Gryffindor needed another reason to hate me. I'm going to be killed before lunch!"

"My dad did say that not all the professors were nice…" Albus noted. He looked back to Rose as she caught up, her eyes still down on the ground. "What's the matter, Rose?" he asked lightly.

Rose didn't look up as she continued on. "It's nothing. I'll see you later."

The two boys watched her go curiously before shrugging to one another and making their way towards their next class. "It's more than that." Scorpius continued. "Before, when we were being sorted…she was staring at me. Almost like she wanted me dead or something."

Albus scratched his head. "Well. She does kind of look at everyone that way."

Scorpius sighed and tucked his books under his arm. "I just can't _wait_ for our next class."

"Me neither!" Albus beamed, having completely missed all sarcasm. He pointed out towards the field and walked out ahead, snatching him by the sleeve in enthusiasm. "Come on! We have flying lessons."

"We do?" Scorpius managed before he was dragged off.

The field was full of bubbly, chattering young girls and boys who were practically climbing on top of one another in excitement. Scorpius was hesitant to approach, and probably would have stood on the outskirts moping for the entire duration if Albus hadn't been mercilessly pulling him into the pack of bodies.

"I wonder if I'll be as good as my dad. He was a Seeker for Gryffindor, you know." Albus gushed as he looked around for there teacher.

"My dad was a seeker too." Scorpius offered distractedly.

"He was a natural, my dad. Maybe I am too. I hope so. I've always wanted to play for the Gryffindor team!"

The students all faced skyward as a woman with short gray hair descended from the clouds on a Comet broomstick and landed in the clearing they made for her amid their bodies. She stepped off of it leisurely and pushed her goggles up onto her head, adjusting her gloves and casually dusting herself off as if she were waiting for someone else entirely to start the class. Once she had meticulously straightened her tie, however, she took in an authoritative breath. "Alright then! Here we are. I'm your flight instructor Madam Hooch, now if you would all please select a broomstick from the rack back there we can get started."

The students didn't need to be told twice. They quickly lined up to select one, some taking an obnoxiously long time to do so considering that they were all identical. Once they had obtained their brooms, each of them filed back into the crowd before their teacher. Scorpius and Albus looked at one another, Albus with a wide grin and Scorpius with a smile that may have actually been in excitement.

"At first," their instructor began as she held up her broomstick, "flying may seem quite difficult. Some of you will pick it up quickly, some of you may take a little time to learn the basics, but the more you keep at it the faster it will become the most thoughtless, simplest magic you will ever perform."

Scorpius looked down at his broom. He couldn't imagine someone actually having difficulties with flying. Shouldn't it be supremely easy? He hoped so. His father had made it sound that way. But if this was going to be complicated he certainly hoped that he wouldn't be one of the ones left lagging behind. He glanced over at Albus, who was studying his own broom carefully.

"Let's start with something easy, shall we?" the instructor continued. She dropped her broomstick to the ground and hovered her hand over it before continuing. "Try lifting your broom off of the ground from where you stand. If you can accomplish this, flying will be an easy next step. All you have to do is will the broom into your hand. Go on. Try for yourselves."

Scorpius exchanged another glance with Albus and joined the rest of the students in dropping his broom to the earth. _Just will it into my hand? What does that mean? I don't see how those can really be proper instruct—_Scorpius jolted as his broom immediately leapt into the air, meeting his opened palm again so quickly that it forced his arm back and nearly made him elbow the boy behind him in the face. He blinked confoundedly.

"Very good, Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Hooch praised.

Other students practically hissed, but Albus smiled broadly. Scorpius wondered if perhaps his own accomplishment was just dumb luck since the other students didn't seem to grasp it similarly on their first try, but then he saw that Albus had equal triumph in the task. In a matter of minutes it appeared that most of them had gotten the idea.

"That's very good, children. Practice some more on that. The next step is levitation." Madam Hooch took her broom in hand to demonstrate. "Sit back on your broom. But not too far. Firmly grasp the length of the stick in front of you and straighten your arms. You there—you're sitting up too far, dear. Now, simply imagine yourself hovering off the ground. Feel your feet slowly lifting from the earth and your legs dangling in mid-air, unsupported. Don't overdo it. You don't want to go floating off into space."

Some of the students looked as though they were actually worried about that possibility—most notably a girl whose hands quaked madly where she held her broom at that statement. Nevertheless, all of them straddled their brooms and set to work applying the mere will to fly with the action. Almost immediately, the nervous child that Scorpius thought he recognized as the twitchy little Ravenclaw girl from the sorting ceremony was off the ground. So quickly in fact that she completely and utterly panicked. With a shrill scream of terror, she was up in the air, her broom seemingly having moved of its own accord several feet off the ground. Despite the instructor's cautions to stay calm, the young girl did anything but, gripping onto her broom as it swayed and subsequently slipping. She clutched onto the broom with only one arm and leg, gripping it in a bear hug for dear life as if the six foot fall would kill her.

"Ingrid, don't fuss so much, you'll fall off." Madam Hooch sighed, muttering under her breath, "There's one in every bunch."

Sure enough, Ingrid flipped upside down and lost her grip altogether, falling to the earth below her with a yelp among the group of laughing children. Once she found that she was unharmed, she covered her face in shame, only to be startled again as the broom fell onto her from above moments later.

"That was just fine for a first try." Madam Hooch offered, trying to dismiss embarrassment. The rest of the children didn't seem to agree, as they were laughing riotously. Scorpius himself was smirking slightly.

"What a twit…" he muttered to Albus, who was focusing quite intently on his broom.

The darker haired boy's face was fixed in concentration as he clenched and loosened his legs alternately around his broomstick. He was clearly put off by his lack of progress in hovering when he had done so well on the first test. "I don't get what I'm doing wrong. How's this supposed to work?"

"I dunno. Maybe you're holding it wrong." Scorpius shrugged.

"I don't think so. Look, I'm doing it the same way as those kids and…nothing."

"Then maybe you're trying too hard. Like thinking too much before an exam."

Albus paused for a moment before nodding, resituating himself on his broom to regroup. No sooner had Scorpius looked away than it happened. If too much thought had been Albus's prior problem, then there mustn't have been a single one in his head in the next moment, for before Scorpius knew it his friend had erupted off of the ground in a zig zagging pattern with a short yell of shock. The others watched as Albus clumsily struggled on his broom, which was zipping around over their heads like a wild stallion trying to shake off its rider. Before anyone could react, the broom then bolted, tearing off into the distance with a helpless Albus clinging onto it.

"Albus!" Scorpius cried after in shock. Without thinking he instantly mounted his broom and took off after him.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Malfoy—boys! Get back here!" Madam Hooch commanded before getting on her broom as well to pursue them.

Scorpius was sure he had made a very stupid decision the instant he was in the air. He hadn't even attempted to practice hovering like his teacher instructed, as he had been paying too much attention to the students around him. It was only once he was airborne and chasing after Albus that he realized he had no _idea_ how to fly. He tried not to think about how much distance there was between him and the ground as he almost helplessly chased after an ever elevating Albus, narrowly avoiding collisions with the side of the great castle walls that flanked him. He clumsily tried to retain his balance, and to his complete surprise, managed not to drive himself into the side of a pointed rooftop.

Albus was not doing as well comparatively. He seemed sure to fall off of his broom, and from this height that would almost certainly maim or kill him. Fully aware of this, Scorpius swallowed his trepidations and accelerated violently to catch up to him. Albus was his only friend in all of Hogwarts. He couldn't let him splatter himself on the pavement their first day. Miraculously, Scorpius caught up with him, soaring at his side at breakneck speed and shouting at him over the wind. "Albus!" he cried. "Stop moving so much! You're going to fall off!"

"I'm trying!" squealed Albus indignantly as he tried with all his might not to let himself turn upside down.

Scorpius was only barely balancing on his broom himself, and certainly couldn't give Albus any genuinely helpful pointers. He yelled out the only suggestions he could think of. "Can't you try to go down?! You're going to fly off into the clouds!"

Albus attempted to do as he was told with sickeningly instant results, barely tipping the edge of his broom downward and suddenly plummeting towards the ground. Scorpius followed suit, narrowly avoiding an oncoming crow. His eyes clenched shut as he descended, a terrified chorus repeating over and over in his head_. I'm going to die I going to die I'm going to die—what was I thinking?!_ He opened his eyes a split second before he caught up once more to Albus, who was clutching his broom to his chest and covering his face as if to prepare for some heavy impact. Scorpius turned in time to see that they were headed straight for a classroom building—or, to be precise, just above the first story window of one. He reacted before he thought. Tearing up to Albus's side, he slammed his shoulder into his, hurling the both of them off to the side. His action almost succeeded. Scorpius was the one to take the brunt of the blow, his foot and broomstick scraping against the side of the aged brick in a jarring crunch that caused Albus, whose shoulder Scorpius was clutching, to drop his own broom. Still clinging to him, Scorpius tipped towards his falling weight and was pulled off as well. His stomach lurched as he freefell into air. Both boys crashed to the grass beneath them and rolled several feet before stopping.

Scorpius took a moment to realize that he was no longer falling, his head spinning in disorientation. He couldn't feel his arms or legs. He didn't want to open his eyes for fear of finding that he no longer had either. But as soon as he mustered the courage, he looked out to find all of his limbs incredibly intact and none of them twisted into hopeless disarray. He felt his chest and his head in near panic before he finally decided that aside from scrapes and bruises he was completely unharmed, and he looked over to Albus shakily.

Albus was sitting up but utterly frozen. Scorpius fully expected him to burst into tears or start screaming in mortification—surely he must be more horrified than himself. But then, in an act that made Scorpius nearly leap out of his skin, Albus erupted into loud peals of laughter.

"Did you see that?!" he choked between gasps. "Did you? I flew!"

Scorpius felt dizzy as he gaped at Albus. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I flew faster and higher and better than any of the other first years. I knew I was a natural! I just knew it!"

"You almost died!"

"I know!" Albus continued laughing. "Di—did you see me almost hit that wall? I thought I'd had it!"

Scorpius slowly gazed up at the wall that had almost been the windshield to their insect and then blinked back at Albus with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. "You would've, too!"

Albus clutched his stomach and fell back to the ground, infecting Scorpius into bouts of laughter as well. Soon they were both in half relieved, half panicked hysterics. Madam Hooch screeched to a halt before them with a hand to her chest and a look of sheer horror in her eyes as she rushed over to them, the look on her face suggesting that she expected to find a twisted heap of mangled bodies lying dead before her. Instead, she saw the two boys laughing it up, and the concern on her face was replaced so quickly by rage it was as if someone had flipped a switch. She stared back in forth between them before shouting in a shrill tone, "Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

The laughter rather quickly died away.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

* * *

"I can't wait until our next flying lesson. I think I really got the hang of it today." Albus nodded to himself as he began pulling messy, piled clothes out of his suitcase.

Scorpius highly doubted that. He unzipped his own luggage and lifted it onto his bed to reveal perfectly pressed and folded clothing inside. Neither of them had bothered unpacking the previous night, as it had been rather late by the time they had turned in. "Well you can count me out."

"Come on, Scorpius. You had fun." Albus insisted. "Besides, you were right you know."

"About what?" Scorpius blinked and turned to look at him.

"I was thinking too hard about it. Then I stopped. And I just focused on what I wanted to do. And then I thought about how much I wanted to be soaring across the Quidditch field and—vroom! Just like that!"

"Didn't your father ever teach you anything about flying?" Scorpius asked, recalling several pointers his own father had relayed to him before his going off to school.

"Well sure. Er, well, no, not actually, I guess." Albus paused as he held up and studied a crumpled red sweater that his Grandma Weasley had knitted for him and wrinkled his nose. "I mean he always talked about flying. How great it was and all. But I guess he never really told me how to…do it."

"Hm."

"What about you?" Albus prodded. "How did you know how to do it?"

"My dad." Scorpius shrugged. "He told me how to do lots of things. He tells me how to do everything, actually." He snorted and carefully transferred his pristine clothes into a dresser drawer.

"Oh." Albus offered. "My Dad says that we should figure things out for ourselves. He almost never helps us. Sometimes he can be a real pain."

The other boy leered over. "Figure things out for yourself? You mean like flying? Yeah, that worked out just wonderfully. You almost squashed yourself figuring that out."

Albus made a face and began stuffing his clothes carelessly into a drawer himself. "So what? You almost did, too."

"Because of you." Scorpius reminded. "And anyway, if I was thinking properly I probably never would have gone after you."

"I would've been fine." Albus informed curtly as he pulled on his pajamas.

Scorpius wrote that off as an utterly delusional comment and crawled into bed. His eyes didn't grace the other side of the room where their other roommates sat. So far the four of them had interacted little. He could hardly remember their names, let alone want to chat with them. They seemed to be friends with one another anyway, both sitting on the bottom bunk and chatting over a book one held in his hands. Perhaps they could go through their entire year without speaking to the other two boys and Scorpius was just fine with that.

"I haven't seen Rose since lunch. And she's been awfully quiet today. That's not like her." Albus chattered as he peered down at Scorpius from the top bunk.

Scorpius shrugged. As far as he was concerned, that was weird for any girl. "Maybe she doesn't like it here."

"Not like it? Rose's been looking forward to going to Hogwarts since…well, since forever. I mean, haven't all of us?"

Scorpius sighed silently and averted his eyes over to his opened suitcase now on the ground. "I don't know. I guess so." He lied.

"You _guess_ so?" Albus didn't seem to understand. "I've been excited to go ever since my brother first went. I was sad that I didn't get to go when he left. But I guess it was nice while he was gone."

James Potter. Scorpius had almost forgotten about him. At least they had managed to go the whole day without running into him again, but that was a luxury of happenstance he was sure he couldn't rely on.

"I guess it was the same for my sister Lily. She was real bummed when we left. Now she's all alone at home with Mum and Dad…" Albus thought for a moment. "When did you first want to go? Did your older brother or sister come here? Are you the first?"

"I don't have any. Brothers or sisters, I mean." Scorpius corrected.

This seemed like some unattainable notion by the look on Albus's face. "You don't? You mean you don't have to share or get picked on or fight over things with anybody?"

"Nope." There was a long pause.

"Wow…that must be great." Albus vanished from view as he lay down in his bed. "I'll bet you have your parents all to yourself all the time."

"Of course I do. They never leave me alone." Scorpius snorted.

Albus couldn't seem to find anything wrong with that statement at first, but then replied at length, "Yeah, I guess I wouldn't want to be checked in on all the time. That'd drive me crazy. Like when there's a big family reunion and my aunts and uncles and grandparents all come and squeeze my cheeks and stuff and ask me all sorts of questions like, 'when did you go and get so big?'. I can't stand that. Aren't I supposed to grow?"

Scorpius was at an utter loss. His entire family consisted simply of himself, his father, and his mother. He didn't have any grandparents or aunts or uncles to squeeze his cheeks—he'd be horrified if he did. The closest thing he could compare that sentiment to was being stuck in a crowded market, which he despised. He suddenly felt rather sorry for Albus. "That sounds dreadful."

"I dunno. S'not so bad. It's a lot more presents at Christmas time. …And it's not like I don't love them. They're my family, after all."

Scorpius could understand that. He briefly thought about Christmas in his own household. It was usually the same affair. His mother would excitedly hand him gifts and he would open them to find inevitably strange things such as colorful shoes, giant quills, and once an incredibly odd muggle sports ball that he hadn't the slightest clue how to play with. She would also hand him what his father had gotten him, and each and every time Scorpius unwrapped them, he would find exactly the thing he had been wishing for but scolded for rambling on about the whole year. His father would sit on the couch reading the paper as if uninterested, seeming completely unaware of the kindness he had bestowed. He recalled last Christmas when he had dug into a box to find a pair of custom Quidditch goggles—the finest he could think of, with his name engraved on the strap and everything. _"You can't use them now, of course."_ His father had uttered nonchalantly. _"But when you can you won't find a better pair."_

"What are you going to write home, Scorpius?" Albus's voice intruded upon his reminiscing suddenly.

He thought for a long moment. "Why? What are you going to write?"

"Do you have to ask?" Albus said with an audible grin. "I flew for the first time today! I really flew."

Scorpius curled into his covers and rolled over. Flying. That was a pretty good subject. Maybe he would write about that as well. Only, he may have to omit a few parts…


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

_I ultimately decided not to split this up into two chapters. I wonder if I should've...but preceding chapters have seemed relatively short lately._

* * *

Scorpius didn't understand how Albus had managed an entire page of writing already while his own paper still remained empty save for a handful of short, uninspired sentences. But then again Albus had a million things he was dying to tell his family while Scorpius was busy trying to think up ways to be aloof in his. Rose sat quietly next to them writing dutifully in perfect penmanship as she ate her breakfast. She continuously had to shoo Codger away from her plate, who drooped itself pitifully in front of her like some abused child.

"That's a bad owl, no." Albus muttered as he swiped lazily at his pet as well, scribbling furiously. "What are you writing home, Rose?"

"How is that any of your business?" she quipped. "What we write to our parents is personal."

"I was only asking."

"And I was only telling." Rose turned away from him and continued to write.

"Hmph. What about you, Scorpius?" Albus opted curiously.

Scorpius offered him a sidelong glance before looking down at the scant amount he'd written and tearing off a corner of bread for his nearby owl Twistfoot. "It's personal."

Codger looked at the other owl being fed in horror, as if some infinite betrayal had befallen it and its neglected stomach.

"Well fine then." Albus huffed. "I won't tell either of you what I wrote. Not even if you beg."

"Your parents probably can't even read that chicken scratch you call handwriting." Rose taunted before closing up her own letter.

"Rose, how do you spell professor? I think it's one 's'…or is it two 's's and two 'f's?" Albus stared down at his paper wondrously.

"Figure it out for yourself." She muttered in return.

Albus blinked at her, not seeming to understand. Normally Rose would leap at the chance to offer guidance, especially when it came to things like spelling. "If I could do that I wouldn't be asking. I know you know the answer."

Rose finished sealing her envelope quickly, seeming agitated. "Yes, well, just because you know something doesn't mean you have to let everyone in the world know, alright? I'm not a walking dictionary."

"Could've fooled me." Came a voice as a taller boy appeared from behind, reaching forward to try and take a muffin from the center of the table.

"Go on, James, leave us alone." Albus pouted slightly.

"Is that your letter to Mum and Dad?" James asked through a mouthful as he thrust an accusing finger to the paper in his brother's hands.

"So what if it is?"

"Can I read it?"

"No!"

"Sheesh! No need to get snippy." James wheeled around and sat backwards between them, looking over a shoulder as he spoke with a wide grin. "Did you two see that great big fat kid walking around with mushrooms growing out of him yesterday?"

"That's not very nice." Rose frowned disapprovingly at him. "It wasn't his fault, anyway."

"What are you, his girlfriend?"

Rose glared daggers at him and stacked her books neatly to the side, waiting for her friends to finish breakfast before she headed with them to class.

James shrugged and reached for a piece of toast from Albus's plate. Codger, however, unwilling to let yet another creature eat while it sat pining, snapped jealously at James's hand with a screech. He immediately withdrew it with a gawk. "What's wrong with him?!" he demanded.

"How should I know? Now go away."

"Stupid bird." James bore his teeth at the owl. Normally he would throw bits of food or other objects at it just to get a rise out of Albus, but ever since the incident on the train he hadn't come close to touching it again. Sulking, he leaned down to see who else was with them when his eyes came across who he at last recognized as Scorpius. At first he wasn't sure what to make of it, but a scowl appeared on his face as he saw the Gryffindor crest on the boy's vest. "So it's true then!"

Rose and Albus looked at him.

James pointed helpfully at Scorpius. "_He's_ in Gryffindor!"

"So what?" Albus defended.

"You're _friends_ with him?" James stared stupefied at his younger brother for a moment before eying Rose on his other side. "Dad's going to be steaming mad!"

"He will not!"

"Will too. Don't you know who his father is?"

"What does that matter?"

James crossed his arms. "I'm going to tell Dad, then we'll both see what he has to say."

"Well don't bother." Albus shoved his letter at his owl, which took it into its beak obediently. "I already did."

James snorted and stood up, glaring at Scorpius. "Hey. You."

Scorpius looked up coolly and handed his own miraculously finished letter to Twistfoot. "What?"

"You must think you're pretty smart, tricking the Sorting Hat like that."

"I didn't trick anyone." Scorpius spat back. He was tired of this argument. What did they think he had done—had his way bought into Gryffindor? As if his father would have! "Besides, what does it matter to you, anyway?"

"Because Malfoys don't belong in Gryffindor. In fact I don't think they should even allow you into the school. Not with your father being a traitor and all." James held up a finger. "I'll bet you're a spy or something. Why else would you be in our house?"

"I am not!"

"Sure you are, you've already cost us points. How do you think I heard you were in Gryffindor in the first place? You're trying to give us a bad name."

"Stop it! He is not!" Albus interrupted. "Besides, it's not his fault he lost points. Professor Parkinson is _really_ mean!"

James stopped for a moment before momentarily forgetting his accusations and snickering. "She yelled at you? And she didn't put a curse on you or anything?"

Scorpius stood up without another word, thrusting his arm into the air so that his owl would fly off and forgetting his books as he stormed off.

"Scorpius, wait!" Albus cried out after him. When the other boy didn't turn back, Albus glared at James angrily. "Now look what you've done!"

James shrugged innocently and continued eating his muffin.

* * *

Scorpius didn't know whether he was grateful for the fact that his friends hadn't caught up with him or whether he resented them for it. In the end he decided that it was probably for the best, as he didn't feel much like talking, anyway.

_"In fact I don't think they should even allow you into the school. Not with your father being a traitor and all."_

Scorpius sneered to himself. He wanted to lunge at James for that comment, but he was positive that would have only ended in further embarrassment. It wasn't as if he knew how to fight. _Don't think they should allow me into the school?_ He thought furiously. _Well that's fine! I never wanted to be here in the first place. You can have your stupid school and your stupid house and you and all your stupid friends can leave me alone._ He sighed roughly through his nose and quickened his pace, even though he wasn't entirely certain where he was going. He just wanted to get away. Why was it him? Why was he the one who was singled out? People smiled at Albus in the halls, everyone was willing to be friends with Rose. Obviously James already had scores of friends. It almost felt as though people avoided him on purpose.

But James couldn't be right, could he? Could it really be that everyone was so indifferent to him just because of his father? Scorpius chewed on his lip as he thought, but he had virtually nothing to work with. Like Albus and Rose, his father hadn't told him very much of anything regarding the war. All he really knew was that at some point there was one. His father had hardly even mentioned his boyhood at Hogwarts, only admitting briefly that it was where he met his mother and offering very little else. If he ever asked, he would merely be shooed away as if he were being intentionally obnoxious. _Maybe he didn't have any friends either. …Maybe I'm cursed._ Scorpius sighed again to himself.

Scorpius suddenly felt a shocking impact to his front, a shower of papers raining down over his body as he fell to the ground on his rear end. At first he merely sat there with wide eyes, staring at the end of a piece of paper that lay over the top of his head and obstructed his vision.

"Oh my!" cried a horrified voice up above him amid the fluttering of falling pages.

Scorpius pulled the paper out of his face slowly and gaped up at an old man who had one hand tangled in his messy white tresses, mustache crooked tone side and mouth opened slightly. He slowly shrank back, recognizing the man he had smacked into as the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself, Tobias Greenwood. "S-sorry…" he gulped audibly.

Greenwood blinked several times down at the boy before shaking his head. "Oh! Well. That's alright, I suppose." He dismissed, crouching down to begin sorting through the enormous stack of papers he had been carrying, which now lay in a hopeless hill around Scorpius's body. "Um…let me see here, which of these are yours?" Greenwood adjusted his glasses and peered at the heading of the page in his hand.

Scorpius mentally kicked himself into responding. "I…I wasn't…carrying anything."

The headmaster stared for some time before shuddering, gathering up the scattered papers wildly in his arms. "Oh." He stopped once his stack was rather large, pausing with a finger to his cheek. "…Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure." Scorpius insisted. He quickly looked around himself and began to aid in the scooping up of lost documents in hopes of appeasing the man.

"You certainly were in a hurry." Greenwood stated without admonishment.

"Yeah, I guess." Scorpius agreed. "It's just…I was going to class, and—I didn't want to be late is all."

"Class, you said?" Greenwood studied one more important-looking paper before discarding it over his shoulder. His eyes drifted to Scorpius briefly as both of them stood. "Why? Are you a student here?"

Scorpius stared for a moment before looking down at his clothes, wondering if they had disappeared. "Of course I'm a student. I'm wearing the Hogwarts uniform, aren't I?"

"Oh. So you are." Greenwood paused for a long stretch of time. "I mean of course you are! That's plain to see. Here, this one must be yours. It's not mine." He thrust out a page of text on Hogwarts Official Rules and Regulations of Quidditch.

"No, that's not mine." Scorpius explained as he stared up at the headmaster in confusion. "None of them are."

Greenwood rambled for a minute about how sorry he was before stuffing that particular page into his inner jacket pocket. He then leaned in close to the boy, eyes scanning around them for whoever might be listening. "It's that McGonagall woman, you see. She's given me positive truckloads of these papers and I haven't the slightest idea what to do with them. I've tried everything. I've hidden them behind paintings, under desks, I've given them to owls…why, I'm running out of ideas."

"Have you tried…reading them?" Scorpius asked lightly.

Greenwood straightened up stubbornly. "Why on earth? Oh—perhaps I can feed some of them to that Gamekeeper's animals…" he stopped, eyes locked on Scorpius. "I thought you said you were going to class. Where are your books?"

Scorpius panicked for a brief second before shaking his head. "Bugger…I must've forgotten them at lunch."

"That's a funny place to leave them. You weren't eating them, were you? Because if you've got a taste for paper I'll forget about that Gamekeeper and you can just—"

Scorpius held out his hands to push away the stack of papers that was thrust at him. "No, it's just that I left in a hurry and I forgot them."

"Well now I don't see how you could be in that much of a rush. Were they serving mince meat pie or something? Dreadful stuff, that."

"No." Scorpius shook his head slowly. "It was another boy, I guess. He was bothering me."

If possible, Greenwood seemed to understand, rocking back on his heels a bit. "Oh, I see." He replied in the knowing voice of a more experienced and wizened man. However, this was complimented by a completely contradictory question. "What do you mean?"

Scorpius averted his eyes and rubbed his arm. He was afraid to be dishonest with an authority figure. What could it hurt, anyway, telling this old kook anything? "Well he's like a bully."

"Oh my, this school has bullies?" Greenwood's eyebrows disappeared under his hairline and he adjusted his slipped spectacles in surprise.

"Yeah. Loads, too." Scorpius muttered. "It's not just him. Everyone hates me. Since the first day I got here, all I hear about is how I shouldn't be in Gryffindor or how I shouldn't be in this school and all sorts of other nasty things. And they all say how much I look _just_ like my father, and they don't mean it in a nice way I don't think. Like it's my fault or something. I mean it isn't as though I can help who my father is. And who says I'd want to, anyway?"

"That's terrible." Greenwood agreed. He seemed to be genuinely sympathetic, if nothing else. "So you don't have any friends at all then?"

Scorpius paused, staring into the headmaster's expectant face. "…Oh…well…no. I mean, not actually. I have two friends, at least. They're the only ones that have been nice to me." He thought for a moment about where Rose and Albus were and felt a small pang of guilt for walking out on them.

"That's good at least." Greenwood nodded. "Between you and me, I don't have any friends here either. But then I suppose I wouldn't want to be friends with an old man like me either. I think by now I'm used to that sort of thing. Anyway, all of these people make me nervous! Sometimes I think I'd like to dive into the woods and hide under a rock somewhere until the school year is over." he shuddered, then gave a lengthy moment of silence and thumbed through his disorderly stack of papers. "But, that's beside the point, I suppose. I'm here whether I like it or not, and that's that."

Scorpius reluctantly understood, assuming that current company was even capable of making a subtle point. Looking down at some scattered papers on the floor that Greenwood was apparently intending to leave right there, he replied, "Well…I guess I should get to class now."

"Oh. Yes. I'd completely forgotten how busy I was!" Greenwood made a move to walk on by, but he suddenly turned, plucking out a paper from his stack. "Ah! You seemed to have overlooked this one. I'm absolutely positive this one was yours."

Before Scorpius could protest, a page was shoved into his hands, and Greenwood scurried down the hallway with papers fluttering out of his grasp every few moments and a previously missed, poorly scrawled in student handwriting sign taped to his back that read 'Hex me'. Scorpius looked down at the document he allegedly owned, the heading of which read, "_The Most Crucial, Important, and Not-to-be-Neglected Duties of a Headmaster_". He shook his head and continued on his way to class.

By the time Scorpius arrived in his charms classroom, Albus and Rose were waiting for him, waving as he came through the door and motioning him over. "Hey, Scorpius, there you are." Albus whispered. He pointed to the seat next to him, where miraculously the blond boy's books had appeared. "You left so fast you forgot your books. I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up at all, then I'd've had to lug them around all day."

Scorpius looked down at his books in silence for a moment before sitting down. "Thanks Albus…You're a real friend."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

_I've been meaning to post this for the past two days, but every time I start the process, something seems to interupt me. Can't say much else--I'm trying to finish updating this before it happens again!_

* * *

"Do you think our parents felt this way back when we were writing home all those years ago?" Hermione grinned at her husband as she unfolded the letter in her hands.

Ron looked up from the table, as did Harry, who was across from him. "Probably not." He replied casually. "With as many letters as my parents got, I bet they trained the owls to drop them in the bin when they came in."

Hermione responded by swatting his shoulder and sitting down to read her daughter's letter avidly. "Dear Mum and Dad, school is just fine…" she trailed off as she read, quickly absorbing every line.

"Good to know they haven't burned the place down yet." Harry nodded as he stroked Codger the puffy white owl's head and scanned his own letter.

"Is that just a letter from Albus, then?" Ginny asked a bit unhappily. "I see James hasn't sent us anything yet."

"Let him have his fun, Gin." Harry patted her leg and continued reading. "He'll miss us eventually. Just like last year."

"It wouldn't kill him just to say hello."

Both Harry and Hermione were well into their respective letters when, at a simultaneous realization, they both stopped, blinked, and looked up at one another. "Scorpius Malfoy?" they echoed one another.

"Huh? What? What about him?" Ron pushed his head over Hermione's shoulder intrusively in an attempt to read for himself.

"It's…nothing." Harry shook his head, face slightly surprised. "I just wouldn't have guessed that our kids and Draco's would hit it off."

"You're joking!" Ron snapped, snatching the letter from his irritated wife.

"Honestly, I don't see what the big deal is." Hermione sighed. "I think it's healthy for them to have developed a friendship. It isn't as though we're children anymore and we certainly don't have a rivalry with an adult."

"Speak for yourself!" Ron countered, jabbing his finger into middle of the paper. "That little creep's going to make a move on my daughter!"

"Oh Ronald, they're _eleven_." Hermione reminded curtly. "They're not even thinking about that sort of thing. We're we at that age?"

"No, but by then I already knew that Malfoy's were bad news. My poor little Rosie…"

"Relax, Ron." Harry snorted. He fed a bit of sausage to Codger, which earned him a glare from his wife.

"Really Harry, I've been trying all year to get Albus not to do that, now don't you go and start."

"You mean this doesn't bother you?" Ron butted back in as he showed his letter.

Harry leaned forward and squinted, adjusting his glasses to read the seemingly harmless line, _"Albus and I met a friend on the train. It's Scopius Malfoy. I know Dad doesn't like him very much, but he seems perfectly nice."_ Harry looked back to Ron's face. "You're right, Ron. The part where she says she's running away with him is a bit concerning."

Ron snatched the letter back and scanned it in a momentary panic before glaring back at Harry, which caused both his wife and his sister to laugh heartily. He scowled at Harry again and tossed the letter onto the table. "Well I'm glad you find it so hilarious! You wouldn't be laughing if it were _your_ child."

"I don't think Albus is that sort of boy." Harry dismissed.

Ron crossed his arms as another round of snickers broke out at his expense. "I was talking about Lily!"

"Lily Malfoy, hm. It's not a bad ring."

"Now both of you, stop it." Hermione scolded. "Aren't you forgetting who _did_ marry a Malfoy? Does anyone remember Luna? And there's nothing wrong with her."

"Well I wouldn't say all that." Ron muttered. He winced from his wife's angry look and shrugged. "Well come on, 'Mione! She always was a little loopy. And the fact that she did marry that old ferret confirms it."

"That relationship is positively none of our business. I'm just reminding you not to forget who little Scorpius's mother is before you go bashing on him. He's just a child—just like yours."

"Hmph." Was Ron's only retort.

"So then, how is Albus?" Hermione continued, turning to Harry. "The poor thing seemed terribly nervous before he left."

Harry was grinning as he looked down at his letter. "He's doing wonderfully, actually. _'I flew for the first time today, and it's just as great as Dad always says it is. I want my own broom for Christmas. I promise to do all my chores. I'll even do James's and Lily's too, just please buy me my own broom.'_ "

The adults laughed fondly, and Ginny turned over a shoulder to check on Lily and Hugo, who were playing a game out in the garden. "He says that as if he really thinks we won't get him one."

"Maybe we'll give him some socks first, just to play with him." Harry joked. "And look at this… _'Well, I guess if I'm going to be honest, it didn't go perfect or anything. Actually I was sort of terrible at it. It's a good thing Scorpius was there, because he's a much better flyer than me. Than all the other first years, too.'_ Gosh, he sounds just dreamy. Maybe I'll put your mind at ease, Ron, and marry him myself."

* * *

There was not too often silence in the Malfoy household, despite there being only two current residents. But by this point Draco was quite used to his wife's constant chattering, humming, and general noisemaking that seemed to be the quintessence of her. He didn't bother looking up when she twirled into the kitchen gaily, plopping herself down on a chair next to him and tapping the newspaper in his hands roughly in greeting. "He didn't write us much." She informed.

"Good. Perhaps that means the little brat isn't complaining for once." Draco muttered. He seemed to be the very portrait of a stiff, cold man, but this image was undone as he clearly allowed his son's owl to take scraps from his breakfast plate with no effort to shoo him. Even if he didn't seem to be listening, Luna continued on.

"He's perfect for Gryffindor, don't you think? He was always such a brave little boy, our Scorpius."

Draco's expression seemed cross as he attempted to ignore this comment, eyes on the paper but his mind elsewhere. Yes, of course, he had heard of it by now. For the first time since the beginning of the family line, a Malfoy was in Gryffindor. He imagined how horrified his own father would have been to learn that his grandson was in his family legacy's rival house. But then he would have been far more flabbergasted to find that his son had married the daughter of the unanimously voted insane Xenophilius Lovegood in the first place.

"And he's even friends with Harry's boy. And Hermione's girl. I'm so glad. He was worried about that, not having any friends. Do you remember?"

Draco's eyes narrowed, but still he did not respond. It seemed that his son was set on defying the Malfoy name in any way that he could. The only glimmer of satisfaction he could glean off of it was imagining the look on that Weasley father's face at the idea of their children affiliating with one another. He quickly shook himself out of being petty, however, and listened to his wife's rambling.

"I knew he would be doing well. I gave him those Dirigible Plums, after all. In his suitcase, of course. It's silly for a boy to wear earrings." She leaned far enough over the table that Draco was certain she would kick her own chair out from under her and collapse. "Oh, look. _'Most of the profesors…'_ He spelt professors wrong, _'Most of the profesors are okay. But not all of them. Profesor Parkinson is terrible.'_ "

This time Draco responded, slowly lowering one half of his paper to look over at her. "Professor Parkinson? …Pansy Parkinson?"

"Yes, I think so." Luna nodded. "I mean I don't know of any other Parkinsons. And it does sound like her…"

Draco raised one eyebrow and gave a silent sigh, discarding his paper entirely. "I hadn't had any idea she became a professor. Then again I never knew where she would end up. She didn't seem to be interested in anything."

"Other than you." Luna reminded giddily. "Scorpius says she's the Potions Master. It seems like things have worked out for her. How nice."

"Hm." Draco snorted. "What I meant is that I don't know why someone like her would choose that position. She was a high maintenance Slytherin like the rest of us, she came from a wealthy beginning. The Pansy I knew would scoff at the idea of being a teacher."

"Perhaps she didn't have many options. It was difficult for a lot of us after the war. Maybe her family lost their money." Luna suggested. "Like yours did."

Draco paused for a long moment, staring into his wife's face. Clearly she hadn't meant that with malice. She was, however, blunt, and often said things of scathing nature unintentionally. "My parents didn't just up and 'lose' their money. It was taken from them, shortly before they died." He said almost carelessly.

He tried not to be bitter at the thought. In fact, he tried not to have that thought at all. Some memories were better left buried. His father, having been thoroughly investigated after the chaos of the war and seen worthy of no lenience, was sent back to rot in jail, which was exactly what he had done. Though his mother had managed to avoid a lifetime of imprisonment in Azkaban, it turned out that a life unprotected by iron bars and dementors wasn't a great deal better—not after the affiliations their family had chosen. They had tried to live their life in seclusion as much as they could. His mother, seeming to have lost all luster, didn't bother to fight back when their assets were seized by the Ministry of Magic and left his family bereft. After their mansion in Wiltshire was forfeit, his mother fled to a dark, quiet corner, away from the public eye. The shame was simply too much for her. Someone with her pride could not bear to be out in a world that despised and ridiculed her. After hearing news of her husband's death she fell into a great depression, having realized that any hope of reuniting her family again was gone with him. She didn't see fit to put up any sort of fight when death—of a broken heart, Draco had always supposed—came for her.

For the first time in years, he thought about his mother's last words. "If I only would have tried a bit harder…If I hadn't been such a coward…I could have saved him…" Draco had offered her his hand to placate her. He knew that she was speaking of her husband. His father, who even as he was being taken to prison, knowing full well he would never return, offered his son only a polite, cordial nod as a farewell. As if that were all a son could mean to a father.

Luna stared back at Draco's now solemn face for some time before standing up, whirling around to snatch a picture of herself, her husband, and their young son that sat on the bookshelf behind her. She smiled, looking into it, but it was slightly sad. "I miss him."

Draco watched her for a long moment before slowly standing, rubbing the back of his neck as he approached her. A small pang of guilt touched him at the mentioning of the death of his parents. Luna's had certainly died no better. Her mother had died when she was nothing but a small child, and her father all too soon after she had graduated from Hogwarts. "Luna…" he began. "I…well you know I didn't mean to say it quite like that. …I know that neither of us have any family left."

Luna turned around to face him without the slightest trace of hurt, a small, wry smirk on her face as her eyes met his. "What a silly thing to say." With that, she pushed the portrait of them into his hands and wandered off, leaving him alone in the kitchen. Draco remained silent, looking into the portrait and gently running a thumb over his son's face.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

_Sorry about the shortness of this chapter. I was waiting until I finished chapter eleven before I posted this, but I couldn't really justify tacking it on since this one is rather unrelated. Eleven should come soon. Also, can anyone answer a question for me? I know that Lily is two years younger than Albus, but I've been writing this story assuming that James is only a year ahead of him. Is this wrong? Does it state somewhere that he is older than one year? I suddenly felt unsure._

* * *

"Transfiguration's so boring." Noted Albus glumly, elbowing Scorpius. "It's just mean to make it our last class. I thought it was never going to end today."

"Maybe if McGonagall wasn't so stuffy it wouldn't be so bad." The blond suggested.

"She isn't stuffy." Rose intervened casually as she appeared between them. "She's brilliant, in fact. Plus she's an animagus! That is so cool."

Scorpius rolled his eyes slightly, plucking up a stick from the ground and tapping the trees as they walked along the courtyard. "Yeah, well, if I could turn into something it wouldn't be a cat. Getting chased around, barked at, stepped on…You might as well be a mouse."

"Yeah, I'd wanna be something big." Albus concurred.

"Everyone could see you if you were something big. You wouldn't make a very good spy." Rose pointed out.

"So? At least no one could push me around." Said Albus. "And who would I spy on, anyway?"

Rose thought for a moment before grinning. "You could always find out what James is up to with his nasty tricks. Then you could beat him to the punch."

"She's got a point." Scorpius noted.

"I was thinking I could just turn into a bear or something. Then I could eat him." Albus explained.

Scorpius snickered and tried to trip Albus with his stick, which started a shoving match between them that exasperated Rose to no end. "_Boys_." She huffed indignantly as she quickened her pace to pull ahead of them through the courtyard. Rose tucked up her severely oversized stack of book—too large for such a small girl—more securely, but unfortunately the stack momentarily obscured her vision and she crashed right into someone in her path. All of her books tumbled to the ground in a heap, flying open and smudging the pages into the grimy wet ground beneath her. "Oh!" she snapped in frustration, but quickly looked back up to the person she'd run into. He was a boy about her age, she supposed, with copper brown hair and a cross look on his somewhat awkward face where he glared down at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you." She offered as politely as she could.

The boy didn't seem to be appeased in the slightest. "Didn't see me?" he repeated shrilly. "Then why don't you get some glasses, you dimwit?"

Rose folded her arms. "Well there's no need to be so rude!"

"You almost knocked me over." He reminded stiffly. "There's nothing ruder than that. Why are you carrying around so many stupid books, anyway?" he demanded. With that, he began to violently kick the already muddy pile of textbooks.

"Stop that!" Rose shrieked, reaching forward and shoving him before she could think better of it. The boy seemed to be delighted at this reaction.

"What's the matter? Did I make the little bookworm mad?"

"Who are you?" Scorpius's voice cut commandingly between them, revealing the young blonde with a suspicious look next to Albus, who was clearly shocked as he saw his cousin's books in a ruined mess on the ground.

"Yeah, and what are you doing with her?" Albus chimed in.

The boy appeared momentarily hesitant, but he quickly regained his composure. "What's it to you?"

"She's my cousin, that's what." Albus noted.

"Does that mean you're as stupid as she is?" he responded dryly. "And I'm Terrence Barkley. You'd better learn to stay out of my way from now on."

"Yeah?" Scorpius moved to the head of the group to face the new boy directly. He looked down at the Slytherin crest on the other child's front before continuing. "Well I'm Scorpius Malfoy, and this is Albus Potter and Rose Weasley. And _you'd_ better stay out of _our_ way first."

Terrence seemed to be more curious than stubborn at that moment, blinking at the Gryffindor boy in hesitation. "So you're that Malfoy boy everyone's always talking about. The one whose father is a Death Eater." he broke out in a grin at this, clearly expecting Scorpius to be upset over such a statement.

Scorpius nearly was, but as sick as he was of hearing it, he simply fixed Terrence with a cold glower and nodded. "That's right, I am. And if you don't sod off I'll call my father, and he and all of his Death Eater friends will come up here and tear you to pieces!"

Terrence Barkley seemed to go pale at the moment. "…Y…you're lying!" he insisted.

"Oh yeah? Don't you know anything about Death Eaters?" Scorpius took a more confident step closer. "They can appear out of thin air, anywhere they please. In fact you might not even see them…until it's too late, of course. They could be here right now for all you know."

"No! Don't!" Terrence relented, taking a step back. He looked around almost nervously before he scowled at them. "You're just bluffing! You can't do all that. You're just a kid." Nevertheless, he was moving off compliantly, shooting one last look at Rose before he stormed off back into the school.

"What a creep he was!" Albus growled, picking up a filthy book and attempting to brush it off.

"Yeah, but you were fantastic, Scorpius!" Rose beamed. Her revelry was short lived, however, as she quickly was reminded of the state her school books were in.

Scorpius simply stood staring after where the boy had retreated, scarcely believing himself that he had managed to best someone else when it came to confrontation. Between James, Professor Parkinson, and the practical entirety of Gryffindor, he didn't think he had it in him to do so. With this renewed sense of strength, he turned back to his friends with a cocky smirk. "Well, you know what they say about those Slytherin. A nasty bunch and all."


End file.
